


Anyone Who Drinks Will Tell You Alcohol Is An Enabler And Not An Excuse

by InfiniteInMystery



Series: October 2020 Spooks [2]
Category: Gintama
Genre: Alcohol, Bad Sakamoto, Bad Touch, M/M, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Rape/Non-con Elements, Somnophilia, This Could Have Been Fluff But It Turned Into Angst, Touching, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26784427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfiniteInMystery/pseuds/InfiniteInMystery
Summary: It's that time of year again, and instead of letting his best friend drink himself into a coma over the choice he made so long ago, Katsura arranges for Gintoki to have some company.Unsurprisingly, Sakamoto pulls out the liquor. Surprisingly, Sakamoto seems to have lost some of his bounds.
Relationships: Sakamoto Tatsuma/Sakata Gintoki
Series: October 2020 Spooks [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950559
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	Anyone Who Drinks Will Tell You Alcohol Is An Enabler And Not An Excuse

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2: Somnophilia
> 
> Did you see the Bad Sakamoto tag? Because this is Sakamoto being Bad.

At the Space Station, inside Sakamoto's super fancy personal ship apartment, Gintoki considered what he was doing with his life again. It was that time of year, again, when he dreamed about the hill and the head rolling. When he dreamed about Takasugi and Katsura screaming. What had happened was over and done with, there was nothing Gintoki could do about it. From previous years, Katsura had learned that Gintoki avoided him like the plague, the guilt always so raw that Gintoki would cry just from seeing Katsura.

It seemed as though Katsura had made a phone call this year, had begged for someone to be with Gintoki even if it would hurt him in the end.

“Hey, hey.” Gintoki snorted with a hand over his mouth, pushing his uneaten chocolate cake around on his plate with his fork. He was lying on a very fancy couch in a very large lounge room, Sakamoto's ships too flashy and rich for Gintoki's poor blood. They had given up on Kario Kart, both of them too drunk to do much more than just relax where they sat. Wetflix was on in the background, a questionable scene not suitable for children unfolding on the large-screen TV. Gintoki wasn't sure how it had ended up like this, and if he hadn't been so damn drunk, he might have seen where all of this was going.

“Hey, 'm not _young_ anymore. You're a really bad 'nfluence, ya know. A really, bad, rich, 'nfluence who thinks he's sly but he's not, 'cause 'm secretly enjoying this.” Gintoki giggled, his head rolling back onto the couch because he was permanently spinning and still trying to keep his shit together. So what, he had murdered his teacher while his friends begged him not to do it? At least his friends were still alive even if they hated his guts, right?

“Haha, what?”

Pressed up beside him because he didn't know what personal space was, Sakamoto started to giggle. He had a glass beer bottle in his hand, the smell of alcohol wafting off him making Gintoki's stomach roll. Sakamoto laughed, a hand dropping onto Gintoki's thigh, his head turning Gintoki's way, face so damn close.

“Hey? No one is making ya stay, Kintoki! Ya can leave whenever you want!” Sakamoto laughed, his words slurring horrendously.

Gintoki huffed a sigh, shoving Sakamoto's hand off of him, wondering if this was okay. He hadn't even cried _once_. He should be mourning right? Or was the point to get him so drunk that he _couldn't_ mourn? _Bet Zura put his faith in Tatsuma and thought we'd have a heart to heart instead of drinking ourselves into alcohol poisoning._

Sakamoto being touchy was one thing, Sakamoto groping was _another._ They were both drunk – had been for almost twenty-four hours now – but Gintoki couldn't remember _ever_ being this drunk, couldn't ever remember Sakamoto being this bold. He'd spent most of the morning throwing up from how hard they had hit the bottles the night before, and the second Gintoki had come out of Sakamoto's luxurious bathroom for a cup of water, Sakamoto had somehow swindled Gintoki into drinking _more._ In Gintoki's defense, it wasn't _every day_ that Sakamoto visited, but Gintoki also knew that alcohol was only an enabler, and any trouble that came out of this was Gintoki's fault and Gintoki's fault alone. Because he stayed when he knew he should have left.

_Just like everything else._

Gintoki dramatically threw his fork down, plate in his lap, unfocused eyes turning up to Sakamoto. “Maybe I should leave right now, then. You're so stupid. What're we gonna do? Drink tomorrow too? It'll be Monday, won't it?”

“Ya free to go.” Sakamoto laughed. He leaned sideways into Gintoki more, his eyes half-lidded, head tilted slightly to the side. His hand went back to Gintoki's thigh, and Gintoki once again pushed him away. “But you'll miss out on the best part.”

“Oh yeah?” Gintoki asked, leaning back into Sakamoto, his face tilted up, there noses only inches apart. He grinned right back, a little voice in the back of his head telling him that _this_ was why Sakamoto kept putting his damn hand back.

“Tell me, what's the best part?” Gintoki asked.

“It's the part where you forget!” Sakamoto laughed really loudly.

The best part turned out to be more shots, little blue, sugary shots of tequila that left Gintoki spinning harder than he would have liked. It didn't take long for the pair of them to stumble back into Sakamoto's en-suite where they had slept the night before – free of Sakamoto's hands– Gintoki heading straight for the bathroom. His stomach was rumbling, coiling ominously, his thoughts slurring through his brain and making next to no sense. He knew going into the shots that they would be too much, but maybe that was why he had drunk them anyway.

Gintoki stumbled in, blindly swatting for the light switch before dropping to his knees in front of the toilet. He retched pathetically into the bowl, gagging up everything he had put down, knowing that his misery was self-induced because _normal_ people went to therapy instead of drowning themselves in liquor. He knew his face was a mess as he choked, giggling at the realization that this wasn't too different from any other year. The only difference was the company once again placing their hands on him.

Gintoki couldn't tell if he loved it or hated it.

“Oh, p'or Kint'ki.” Sakamoto laughed excessively loud, dropping down beside him. Gintoki would never admit it, but no matter how much drowning Gintoki did, he never seemed to be able to out-drink Sakamoto. It was half annoying, half a goal.

A hand slid through the front of his bangs, another rubbing circles high between Gintoki's shoulder blades that were meant to be comforting. Gintoki didn't know if he _liked_ comfort, didn't know if his apprehension stemmed from believing he didn't _deserve it_ or simply being touch-sensitive.

In a lull between puking, Gintoki wondered where he needed to draw the line to Sakamoto's hands. Should he say something or just shove him again? Sakamoto had always been the touchiest of the group, always placing his hands on people, and Gintoki had just accepted it long ago. It left Gintoki confused, so the second he started puking up nothing but bile, he turned away, leaning against the wall and therefore cutting the contact between them. At the end of the day, Gintoki was a coward. He couldn't save anyone. Not even himself.

“You alw'ys drink so much!” Sakamoto laughed loudly, scooting closer to the close the distance between them again. Gintoki laughed because _geez,_ was this man ever persistent. He could only imagine the girls Sakamoto pursued at the bars.

It was kind of annoying.

“You're- bad 'nfluence.” Gintoki muttered, leaning his head back against the wall and pressing a hand to his forehead. “Always saying _more, more!_ A guy can't say no to ya, ya know?”

“I know. I get what I want.” Sakamoto laughed loudly, his fingers drifting underneath Gintoki's chin. He scooted even closer, their knees pressing together, Sakamoto's eyes half-lidded and fixed on Gintoki's bottom lip. Gintoki didn't miss it. Gintoki didn't know what he felt about it though.

“I know you drink like this on purpose.” Sakamoto said quietly, his thumb sliding up Gintoki's cheek. “I _know_ , Kint'ki.”

“Don't.” Gintoki groaned, slapping his hand away. He huffed before shifting, unsteadily standing up. He didn't want to hear it, he didn't want Sakamoto to call him out on his own bullshit. He knew what he had done, knew why he did the things that he did.

“You need to forgive yourself, ya know?” Sakamoto laughed, his hand going back to Gintoki's face.

Gintoki slapped his hand away again, fixing him with a stern look. “You need to shut up.”

Miserable and unsteady, Gintoki trekked through Sakamoto's bedroom over to his massive bed before flopping down face-first into the comfortable red covers. He rolled onto his side, eyes closed, ears turned off to Sakamoto laughing at him and telling him how silly he was. The toilet was flushed, the bathroom door shut, Sakamoto's laughter only muted from the other side. Gintoki laid there, the silence settling over him.

_I should go home. Stupid Sakamoto and his stupid soft carpet._

Gintoki sighed heavily, the exhaustion of being awake and mostly drunk for more than twenty-four hours finally catching up to him. His body became one with the soft blanket beneath him, his mind conjuring up a pretty picture of Shouyou smiling back at him, closed eyes and lips pulled wide, his arms outstretched to the demon that would eventually behead him.

Gintoki's thoughts drifted silent, his body hanging on by a thread. Maybe… he would just go home in the morning. Sakamoto was annoying him, but Sakamoto was still Sakamoto. A comrade, and ally. They were both still drunk, and while it wasn't unusual for Gintoki to stumble home in the wee hours of the morning, he did worry about his liver and showing up looking like such a mess that Otose might finally nag him into attending an AA meeting.

Trailing out of the bathroom almost twenty minutes later, Sakamoto laughed as he stumbled across his plush carpet to the edge of his bed frame, both hands out to catch himself on the massive bedpost. Did he need a triple-king sized bed? No. Did he have one anyway? Of course.

He glanced over to Gintoki, at how his face was turned awkwardly, his eyes closed. He wasn't sleeping, that much Sakamoto could tell. Close, but not quite.

“Kint'ki.” Sakamoto laughed, crawling over the edge of the bed closer, one hand reaching out to pat at Gintoki's cheek. The samurai only groaned at the contact, his eyebrows scrunching up briefly before relaxing again. He slapped his hand out towards Sakamoto, indicating that he didn't want to be bothered, but he hadn't tried very hard.

“Kint'ki, you can just sleep like that.” Sakamoto laughed, his hands gentle on Gintoki's shoulders as he rolled him over onto his back. “You'll get a cr'ck in your neck.”

Gently, Sakamoto pulled at Gintoki's belts, tossing them over the edge of the bed before pushing Gintoki's yukata open. Humming in concentration, Sakamoto started to roll Gintoki out of his yukata none too gently, and Gintoki went with the flow, groaning and grumbling as he went. He even shimmied out of his pants, Sakamoto laughing as he dragged the black fabric off him. They had done this the night before, after all, when they had tried to sleep for a whole hour, until Gintoki had started to puke up his guts and everything else inside of him.

“You're so stupid.” Sakamoto giggled, tossing Gintoki's yukata over his shoulder onto the floor with his belts. With a hand on Gintoki's shoulder, Sakamoto wondered how his drunk ass was going to drag Gintoki properly into the bed before his eyes caught on Gintoki's bottom lip. Again.

Gintoki groaned, pushing at Sakamoto's hand before getting himself to coordinate. “St'pid.”

“Haha, I'm trying to put you to bed, you oaf.” Sakamoto laughed. He helped Gintoki get off the bed, watched as Gintoki scuttled further down the mattress before collapsing again into the pillows this time. Sakamoto started to hoot in amusement as he followed Gintoki, crawling over his blankets as he went. He pulled off his shirt before flopping down beside Gintoki, rolling onto his back to kick off his pants.

“Ya know, ya should be _under_ the blanket.” Sakamoto whispered dramatically, giggling as he did so. But when he looked over, Gintoki was already fast asleep, his face pressed into the pillow and tucked into the crook of his arm. Sakamoto started to giggle, hand reaching out to touch Gintoki's greasy curls, the man's awful hygiene a sign of a problem much bigger.

Sakamoto scooted closer, eyes on Gintoki's white lashes. He leaned in, daringly pressing his lips to Gintoki's temple, the alcohol in his system perking him up rather than bringing him down. He slid his hand back over the side of Gintoki's head, fingers sliding through hair and pushing it back, showing off Gintoki's pretty cheekbones. Sakamoto leaned in closer, lips pressing against his cheeks, his eyes still on that bottom lip but dreading the taste of it after the bathroom trip.

 _I should have kissed him after the tequila._ Sakamoto giggled, pressing his forehead to Gintoki's, his hand scrunching the hair at the back of Gintoki's head. Gintoki sighed contently, soft, cute, and genuine. Sakamoto nudged his hips closer, his lips pressing against Gintoki's cheek again and _why didn't I do this sooner?_

Gintoki was attractive for a _lot_ of reasons. His personality was a huge seller, aside from the self-loathing and destructive habits. But how much Gintoki cared about other people? How big his heart was despite the world being so cruel to him? How he cherished those he loved? And then, of _course_ , there were the physical things. His hair was so cute. His eyes were absolutely stunning even if Gintoki masked them with his dead fish look. His stupid smile stopped men and women dead in their tracks and when he laughed, it made Sakamoto feel like he had _achieved_ something. Like making Gintoki laugh, making Gintoki feel good, was one of the hardest things in the world and when Sakamoto succeeded in cracking that inner gloom, he truly did _succeed_.

But while Gintoki was alluringly attractive, he was also going to Hell like the rest of them. His hands had killed thousands, had ruined just as many lives still being lived. He had been the one to make the hard decisions, the ones that Katsura and Takasugi had argued over. It had always been Gintoki to rule in favor of a side, always Gintoki to carry out the deed. And Sakamoto had been no less responsible, had simply watched the three duke it out, had waited for them to do the dirty work for him.

They all had their dirty little secrets. Takasugi enjoyed killing, enjoying ruining everything around him. Katsura had only seen the army as a bunch of numbers and statistics, hadn't even batted an eyelash when his best men died; it had always been about the tactics of it all, and sometimes, Sakamoto worried Katsura still thought that way. And Gintoki? Well, he liked to lessen his blame by wallowing in it until he was pitied until someone forgave him just to see him stop moping. He wouldn't get help, that much was apparent. And sometimes, Sakamoto just wished Gintoki would be forced into the corner, would be forced to face his life head-on so he could _move on_ and stop being so damn sad inside _._

_All three of them need to move on._

Sakamoto didn't judge them because he was just as bad. A special kind of deviant. He was only out for himself, his own riches, and taking his pleasures. Never by force; only by opportunity or manipulation.

Sakamoto, without really thinking, not that he ever really thought too hard about anything, rolled onto his hands and knees. He crawled over Gintoki, straddling Gintoki's waist. This wasn't the first time Sakamoto had done something like this, doubted it would be the last. He never hesitated when he had the impulse, and why would Gintoki change that? Perhaps he would get into trouble over it, perhaps it would all work out. He never knew going in, but Sakamoto didn't really care.

He easily rolled his friend over onto his back under him, gentle touches just in case Gintoki woke up. Gintoki didn't even sigh this time as he limply rolled, his mouth hanging open, his head tilted to the side, eyes softly shut. There was something so peaceful about seeing Gintoki sleep, something relieved on Gintoki's face that was never present during the day, like Gintoki preferred not to be awake.

Though his dreams, perhaps, were a living nightmare of their own.

Sakamoto leaned down, pressing his lips to Gintoki's forehead, wondering if his expression of love would be rejected if they had been away, figuring Gintoki would _never_ let him do this during their waking hours together, and so Sakamoto had never asked.

And perhaps… Sakamoto would indulge.

It started with Sakamoto's hands in Gintoki's hair as he kissed the other man's forehead, lips pecking down to Gintoki's cheek. It didn't take long for the combination of alcohol and an hour of Wetflix to make him bold, Sakamoto's hands sliding up gently over Gintoki's chest, fingers groping at his breasts through the fabric. Sakamoto sighed contently, his lips ghosting over Gintoki's, wondering if he should just indulge or actually behave for once. He lost his thoughts to the alcohol, his lips pressing gently against Gintoki's. He didn't linger too long, didn't want to taste them.

Gintoki didn't react, which was both good and bad, but Sakamoto held back a giggle because it wasn't like this was the first time Sakamoto had kissed someone while they were unconscious. He wondered if Gintoki would hit him if he found out, wondered if Gintoki would kiss him back instead.

 _If you're already in trouble, might as well cause more._ Sakamoto sighed as he sat up on Gintoki's lap, his own hands diving into his plaid boxers to stroke himself erect and leaking. He closed his eyes, head tilted back as he worked, his mental image struggling to conjure up Gintoki's face and keep it in view. He started to daydream, first Gintoki's aroused, gasping face as Sakamoto plowed into him, then remembering a few times going home with strangers from the bar and doing the same thing he was doing now.

He'd get what he wanted.

Sakamoto's eyes cracked open. He glanced down, not even considering the consequences as he shifted off Gintoki. It wasn't hard, wasn't the first time Sakamoto had undressed unconscious people either, wouldn't be the last time with his drinking habits. Sakamoto dragged Gintoki's black cherry boxers down off his legs, tossing them over his shoulder with the rest of the clothes they had discarded. Ever so gently, sure to not wake him, Sakamoto placed both his hands on Gintoki's soft thighs, pushing his knees apart. He nestled himself between them and then draped them limply around his hips, three fingers swiping some of himself off to make his pads wet and sticky. He glanced at Gintoki's face, his hand between his friend's legs, watching Gintoki's face as he pushed a wet finger inside.

It was always so nice how slack his partners were when they were sleeping. Sakamoto's fingers pushed in easily, his eyes watching Gintoki's face as the man's eyebrows began to furrow together. Gintoki didn't tense, and when Sakamoto got three fingers in and finally pulled them all out, the strain left Gintoki's face. Snorting to himself, Sakamoto lined himself up, his eyes flickering back up to Gintoki's face as he carefully pushed himself inside.

Sakamoto moaned on his way in, almost spurted right then and there. Gintoki's face didn't scrunch when Sakamoto sheathed himself, and Gintoki was tighter than anything Sakamoto ever remembered sinking into. There was no tension, no movement from the body beneath him, and perhaps the dead weight was part of the turn-on. Sakamoto sat up straight with his hands on Gintoki's thighs, rocking his hips ever so gently to test the waters. His eyes remained locked on Gintoki's expression as he picked up a nice slow and languid rhythm.

Sakamoto moaned quietly, eyes closed as he moved, keeping himself nice and slow, just the way he liked this. His head tilted back as he quickly approached his release.

Gintoki suddenly tensed.

Sakamoto stopped dead in his tracks, eyes snapping back open to Gintoki's face. The crease was back between Gintoki's eyebrows, but after a second of no movement, his face smoothed over and his body relaxed again, and if there was still extra tension, Sakamoto was too far gone to notice. Gintoki's mouth was closed, eyes still gently shut. Sakamoto waited an extra moment, his excitement only skyrocketing, before he leaned over Gintoki and started to move again. He made quick work of it, pulling out just in time to catch himself in his own hand with a low guttural groan that he muffled with the back of his own hand.

Down from his high, Sakamoto pried his eyes back open, wondering if there was a special place in Hell for him. He admired Gintoki's face for a moment, so soft and pale like a corpse, and _yes_ , maybe Sakamoto had found his release in weird places on the battlefield due to lack of options. Surely, the war fucked his friends up sexually too.

He crawled off the bed with his sticky hand in the air, disappearing into the bathroom where he washed his hands and cleaned himself off. When he was finished, he was exhausted, tired, and a little too sober for his liking. Katsura had begged him to take Gintoki in that weekend – Read: Katsura was just feeding into Gintoki's moping – and what? Had Katsura really expected Sakamoto to behave? To just say _yes mother,_ before indulging both of their bad habits in one go? _Yet look at me go, taking advantage of his bad habits just to fulfill my own._

Sakamoto bent over at the waist, washing his face in the sink before glancing at his own tired reflection in the mirror, sober thoughts popping up through the haze of alcohol. _You did it again._ He didn't exactly regret it, didn't feel shame. He was just disappointed that he was like this.

_Maybe this is exactly how they feel about their vices too._

Sakamoto snorted. He dried off his face before opening the bathroom door again. He found their boxers on the ground amongst Gintoki's clothes, and Sakamoto put his back on before returning to the bed. He crawled onto his side, glancing over Gintoki's vulnerable body, his eyes landing on Gintoki's pale legs. _Knowing him, he'd wake up from the wet cloth if I cleaned him off._

Deciding to excuse it as vomit should the question be asked, Sakamoto used the blanket to wipe Gintoki's thighs off before sliding those cherry boxers back up. He covered it all up by throwing Sakamoto's half of the blanket over Gintoki's body. Tiredly, Sakamoto crawled into bed, deciding that this was a tomorrow problem, if it even went noticed.

“Hey Moogle,” Sakamoto called, trying not to laugh in his exhaustion, “turn off the lights.”

The lights switched off, the little android softly confirming, blanketing Sakamoto in the pitch black.

Sakamoto fell asleep within minutes, his breaths gentle and calm. He dreamed of money and space as usual. But it wasn't until twenty minutes later that Gintoki's eyes slowly opened. He blinked, staring in the darkness of a bedroom without windows, his mind awfully blank.

Silently, Gintoki pushed the blanket off of himself and rolled out of bed. He didn't look Sakamoto's way, couldn't. Slowly, with shaking knees, Gintoki tip-toed over Sakamoto's plush carpet until he found all of his clothes, bundling them up into his arms.

The automatic door was silent – leave it to Sakamoto to have the finest technology and to also keep it in the best repair – so Gintoki's escape didn't wake the other man up with creaking hinges or anything of the like. Outside the bedroom, Gintoki quickly got dressed, even put his yukata on properly, before hurriedly sneaking over to the door and grabbing his boots. He snuck out the apartment door before he put the boots on, and then casually followed the emergency exit lights through Sakamoto's ship to the nearest exit.

Gintoki went straight home, and the next time he saw Sakamoto, he smiled as if nothing had happened.


End file.
